Uncle Thomas describes the Manner in which Wild Elephants are
caught, and relates some Curious Stories of the Cunning, Affection,
and Intelligence of the Elephant.
"Well, Boys, you are once more welcome!--I am going to tell you some
stories about the Elephant to-night, which I hope will interest you
quite as much as those which I told you about the dog. Next to the dog
the elephant is one of the most intelligent animals; some of his
actions, indeed, seem to be rather the result of reason than mere
instinct. But I must first tell you about the animal in its native
forests.
"In the luxuriant forests with which a large portion of Asia is covered,
this huge animal reigns supreme. Its size and strength easily enable it
to overcome the most formidable opponents. The intelligence with which
it has been endowed by its Creator would make it a most formidable enemy
to man, but that the same All-wise Being has graciously endowed it with
peaceful and gentle feelings. In its native forests it roams about
without seeking to molest any one, and even when caught and tamed it
very soon becomes gentle and obedient.
"In the East Indies the elephant is in very general use as a beast of
burden. For this purpose it is hunted and caught in great numbers by the
Natives, who employ some very ingenious devices to deceive them, and to
drive them into the ambuscades which they form for them. The manner in
which whole herds are captured is as follows:--
"When the herd is discovered by parties who are sent out for the purpose
of reconnoitering, they take notice of the direction in which it is
ranging, and as, if their food is plentiful, they generally continue to
advance in one direction for miles together, the hunters construct, at a
considerable distance in front, a series of enclosures, into which it
is their object to drive them.
"When every thing is prepared, the hunters, sometimes to the number of
several hundreds, divide themselves into small parties, and form a large
circle, so as to surround the herd. Each party generally consists of
three men, whose duty it is to light a fire and to clear a footpath
between their station and that of their neighbours, so that in this way
a communication is kept up by the whole circle, and assistance can at
once be afforded at any given point.
"New circles are constantly formed at short distances in advance, so as
gradually to drive the animals in the required direction. The hunters
are all the while concealed by the luxuriant jungle, and do not show
themselves to the elephants at all, but urge them forward by the use of
drums, rattles, &c. &c., from the noise of which the animals seek to
escape, and thus wander on, feeding as they proceed toward the toils
which are prepared for them.
"The _keddah_, or trap, as it may be called, consists of three
enclosures, each formed of strong stockades on the outside of deep
ditches; the innermost one being the strongest, because by the time they
arrive in it, the elephants are generally in a state of great
excitement, and would soon break down a fragile enclosure, and make
their escape.
"As soon as the herd has entered the first enclosure, strong barricades
are erected across the entrance; and as there is no ditch at this point,
the hunters take advantage of the remarkable dread which the animal has
of fire, to scare them from this most vulnerable part of the
fortification. Fires are gradually lit all round the first enclosure, so
that the only way of escape which is left is by the entrance to the
second.
"At first, as if profiting by their former experience, they generally
shun the entrance to the second of the series, but at last, seeing no
other chance of escape, the leader of the herd ventures forward, and the
rest follow. The gate is instantly shut, and they are in the same
manner driven into the third enclosure. Finding no outlet from this they
become desperate, scream with tremendous power, and seek to escape by
violently attacking the sides of the stockade. At all points, however,
they are repulsed by lighted fires, and the tumultuous and exulting
shouts of the triumphant hunters.
"In this place of confinement they remain for several days. When their
excitement has somewhat subsided, they are enticed one by one to enter a
narrow passage leading to the second enclosure. As soon as one enters
in, the entrance is closed, and as the passage is so narrow that it
cannot turn round, it soon fatigues itself by unavailing exertions to
beat down the barrier. Strong ropes with running nooses are now laid
down, and no sooner does the animal put his foot within one of them,
than the rope is drawn tight by some of the hunters who are stationed on
a small scaffold which has been raised over the gateway. In the same
manner his other feet are secured. When this has been effected, some of
the hunters venture to approach, and tie his hind legs together. Having
thus secured him, they can with comparative safety complete their
capture. When he is completely secured he is placed between two tame
elephants, and led away to the forest and fastened to a tree; and the
same operation is repeated, till the whole herd has been secured. At
first the rage of the captive is extreme; so long as the animals between
which he is led away prisoner remain with him he is comparatively quiet,
but when he sees them depart, he is agitated with all the horrors of
despair, and makes the most extravagant attempts to regain his liberty.
For some time he refuses to eat, but gradually becomes resigned, and
feeds freely.
"A keeper is appointed to each animal, as they are secured. His first
object is to gain its confidence; supplying it regularly with food,
pouring water over its body to keep it cool, and gradually accustoming
it to caresses. In the course of five or six weeks he generally obtains
a complete ascendency over it; its fetters are removed by degrees, it
knows his voice and obeys him, and is then gradually initiated into the
objects of its future labours."
"Thank you, Uncle Thomas. I now understand all about elephant-hunting. I
could not think how the hunters managed to secure such a huge animal. It
seems to be no such difficult task after all."
"It seems easy enough from description, Frank; but it sometimes happens
that they break loose, and, irritated by their efforts to escape, they
range about in the most furious manner, and as they are very cunning
animals, it requires all the circumspection of the hunter to counteract
their schemes. I recollect a story which displays this quality in a very
strong light.
"During the seige of Bhurtpore, in the year 1805, when the British army,
with its countless host of followers and attendants, and thousands of
cattle, had been for a long time before the city, the approach of the
warm season and of the dry hot winds caused the quantity of water in the
neighbourhood of the camps to begin to fail; the ponds or tanks had
dried up, and no more water was left than the immense wells of the
country could furnish. The multitude of men and cattle that were
unceasingly at the wells, occasioned no little struggle for priority in
procuring the supply, and the consequent confusion on the spot was
frequently very considerable. On one occasion, two elephant-drivers,
each with his elephant, the one remarkably large and strong, and the
other comparatively small and weak, were at the well together; the small
elephant had been provided by his master with a bucket for the occasion,
which he carried at the end of his proboscis; but the larger animal
being destitute of this necessary vessel, either spontaneously, or by
desire of his keeper, seized the bucket, and easily wrested it away from
his less powerful fellow-servant. The latter was too sensible of his
inferiority openly to resist the insult, though it is obvious that he
felt it; and great squabbling and abuse ensued between the keepers.
"At length, the weaker animal, watching the opportunity when the other
was standing with his side to the well, retired backwards a few paces,
in a very quiet unsuspicious manner, and then rushing forward with all
his might, drove his head against the side of the other, and fairly
pushed him into the well. It may easily be imagined that great
inconvenience was immediately experienced, and serious apprehensions
quickly followed, that the water in the well, on which the existence of
so many seemed in a great measure to depend, would be spoiled by the
unwieldy brute which was precipitated into it; and as the surface of the
water was nearly twenty feet below the common level, there did not
appear to be any means that could be adopted to get the animal out by
main force, without the risk of injuring him. There were many feet of
water below the elephant, who floated with ease on its surface, and,
experiencing considerable pleasure from his cool retreat, he evinced but
little inclination even to exert what means of escape he might himself
possess.
"A vast number of fascines (bundles of wood) had been employed by the
army in conducting the siege; and at length it occurred to the
elephant-keeper, that a sufficient number of these might be lowered into
the well, on which the animal might be raised to the top, if it could be
instructed as to the necessary means of laying them in regular
succession under its feet. Permission having accordingly been obtained
from the engineers to use the fascines, the keeper had to teach the
elephant the lesson, which, by means of that extraordinary ascendency
these men attain over their charge, joined with the intellectual
resources of the animal itself, he was soon enabled to do; and the
elephant began quickly to place each fascine, as it was lowered,
successively under him, until, in a little time, he was enabled to stand
upon them. By this time, however, the cunning brute, enjoying the
pleasure of his situation, after the heat and partial privation of water
to which he had been lately exposed, was unwilling to work any longer;
and all the threats of his keeper could not induce him to place another
fascine. The man then opposed cunning to cunning, and began to caress
and praise the elephant; and what he could not effect by threats he was
enabled to do by the repeated promise of plenty of arrack, a spirituous
beverage composed of rum, of which the elephant is very fond. Incited by
this, the animal again set to work, raised himself considerably higher,
until, by a partial removal of the masonry round the top of the well, he
was enabled to step out, after having been in the water about fourteen
hours."
"That was very cunning, Uncle Thomas. The keepers seem to attain great
ascendency over the animals."
"The attachment of the elephant to its keeper, and the command which
some of these men acquire over the objects of their care by appealing
to their affections is very extraordinary. The mere sound of the
keeper's voice has been known to reclaim an animal which escaped from
domestication and resumed its original freedom:--
"A female elephant, belonging to a gentleman in Calcutta, who was
ordered from the upper country to Chittagong, in the route thither,
broke loose from her keeper, and, making her way to the woods, was lost.
The keeper made every excuse to vindicate himself, which the master of
the animal would not listen to, but branded the man with dishonesty; for
it was instantly supposed that he had sold the elephant. He was tried
for it, and condemned to work on the roads for life, and his wife and
children sold for slaves.
"About twelve years afterwards, this man, who was known to be well
acquainted with breaking elephants, was sent into the country with a
party to assist in catching wild ones. They came upon a herd, amongst
which the man fancied he saw the long-lost elephant for which he had
been condemned. He resolved to approach it, nor could the strongest
remonstrances of the party dissuade him from the attempt. As he
approached the animal, he called her by name, when she immediately
recognised his voice; she waved her trunk in the air as a token of
salutation, and kneeling down, allowed him to mount her neck. She
afterwards assisted in taking other elephants, and decoyed three young
ones, to which she had given birth since her escape. The keeper returned
to his master, and the singular circumstances attending the recovery of
the elephant being told, he regained his character; and, as a recompense
for his unmerited sufferings, had a pension settled on him for life."
"That was an instance of rare good fortune, Uncle Thomas. How very
curious that he should fall in with the herd in which his own elephant
was!"
"It was very fortunate indeed, Frank. It was not a little curious too
that the elephant should recognise him after so long a period. But the
attachment which they show to their keepers is sometimes very great. One
which in a moment of rage killed its keeper a few years ago, adopted his
son as its _carnac_ or driver, and would allow no one else to assume his
place. The wife of the unfortunate man was witness to the dreadful
scene, and, in the frenzy of her mental agony, took her two children,
and threw them at the feet of the elephant, saying, 'As you have slain
my husband, take my life also, as well as that of my children!' The
elephant became calm, seemed to relent, and as if stung with remorse,
took up the eldest boy with its trunk, placed him on its neck, adopted
him for its carnac, and never afterwards allowed another to occupy that
seat."
"That was at least making all the reparation in its power, Uncle
Thomas."
"There is one or two other stories about the elephant, showing that he
knows how to revenge an insult, which I must tell you before you go.
"A merchant at Bencoolen kept a tame elephant, which was so exceedingly
gentle in his habits, that he was permitted to go at large. This huge
animal used to walk about the streets in the most quiet and orderly
manner, and paid many visits through the city to people who were kind to
him. Two cobblers took an ill will to this inoffensive creature, and
several times pricked him on the proboscis with their awls. The noble
animal did not chastise them in the manner he might have done, and
seemed to think they were too contemptible to be angry with them. But he
took other means to punish them for their cruelty. He filled his trunk
with water of a dirty quality, and advancing towards them in his
ordinary manner, spouted the whole of the puddle over them. The
punishment was highly applauded by those who witnessed it, and the poor
cobblers were laughed at for their pains."
[Illustration: THE ELEPHANT AND THE COBBLERS--Page 68.]
"Ha! ha! ha! He must have been a very knowing animal, Uncle Thomas. I
dare say, the cobblers behaved better in future."
"I dare say they would, Boys. Here is another story of the same
description, but the trickster did not escape so easily."
"A person in the island of Ceylon, who lived near a place where
elephants were daily led to water, and often sat at the door of his
house, used occasionally to give one of these animals some fig leaves, a
food to which elephants are very partial. Once he took it into his head
to play one of the elephants a trick. He wrapped a stone round with fig
leaves, and said to the carnac, 'This time I will give him a stone to
eat, and see how it will agree with him.' The carnac answered, 'that the
elephant would not be such a fool as to swallow a stone.' The man,
however, reached the stone to the elephant, who, taking it with his
trunk, immediately let it fall to the ground. 'You see,' said the
keeper, 'that I was right;' and without further words, drove away his
elephants. After they were watered, he was conducting them again to
their stable. The man who had played the elephant the trick was still
sitting at his door, when, before he was aware, the animal ran at him,
threw his trunk around his body, and, dashing him to the ground,
trampled him immediately to death."